


Moments of Life Under Athos' Roof

by Mademoisellesnowflake



Series: Our Home Under Athos' Roof [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-23 20:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14339997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mademoisellesnowflake/pseuds/Mademoisellesnowflake
Summary: Slice of life modern AU story where Athos, Porthos, Aramis, d'Artagnan and Constance live in the same house. Romance, friendship and various shenanigans ensue. Mostly light-hearted, sometimes a little bit darker but hugs will always ensue.





	1. Snotty Initiation Rites

**Author's Note:**

> So whoops, looks like this AU has become a thing. I can't promise regular updates or even inspiration for new chapters very soon but I very much hope you'll like my new AU
> 
> Someone stop me if this is becoming too much.

D’Artagnan was the youngest of the five people who lived under Athos’ roof by far. He was only few days shy of eighteen and was still finishing his baccalaureate in the upper secondary level of school. Aramis knew that the boy didn’t even know if he was going to continue studying or find a job after he finished his school. He had come to live at the house quite unexpectedly after Athos had met him during the funeral of a late police officer who also happened to be d’Artagnan’s father. After talking with the boy for a bit, Athos had found out that he had nowhere to go as he didn’t want to return to his mother who lived in Lyon.

Athos had nearly kidnapped the boy when he had decided to take d’Artagnan to live under their roof. It had amused everyone when Athos had come home with a protesting teenager and introduced him as d’Artagnan before telling everyone that he would move into the house.

Aramis had been especially fond of d’Artagnan from the beginning and he’d become d’Artagnan’s most trusted adult in the house. It was usually Aramis whom d’Artagnan came to see when he needed help with something or when he was feeling anxious about things in general. The others were a little jealous as they had hoped for d’Artagnan to open up to everyone, but it seemed that Aramis was the only one he trusted so far.

The change happened suddenly one afternoon, when d’Artagnan was in the kitchen with Aramis. D’Artagnan was making some snacks for himself while Aramis was having some tea. They were chatting idly about what they would have for dinner that evening when d’Artagnan accidentally knocked down a glass and it shattered.

“Damn!” d’Artagnan cursed loudly. “I’m sorry, Aramis, I’ll clean it up!”

“It’s fine”, Aramis said as he got up to help. “I’ll help you; it’s no big deal.”

D’Artagnan’s hands were shaking as he tried to pick up the shards as fast as he could. As Aramis knelt next to d’Artagnan and tried to help him pick them up, the boy cut his hand on a shard and yelped. He stumbled backwards and dropped what shards he’d already managed to gather. He looked upset and he was hyperventilating as he looked at Aramis. When Aramis tried to reach out to him, he jumped up and ran upstairs, passing Athos who had just walked downstairs.

“What’s going on?” Athos asked, looking confused. “What happened?”

“He broke a glass by accident”, Aramis said, finding himself at a loss for words. “I think he freaked out.”

“Oh”, Athos breathed. “Well, let’s clean this up and then figure out what’s going on with d’Artagnan.”

Aramis nodded and began collecting the shards of the broken glass as Athos found a plastic bag they could collect the shards in. The two worked efficiently in silence and soon there were no more shards of glass on the floor. They gave each other knowing looks and Aramis fetched the jar of chocolate cookies before he walked upstairs and knocked on d’Artagnan’s door.

“Can I come in, d’Artagnan?” Aramis asked after knocking. When he heard soft sniffles, he added, “Just make some kind of sound if you want me to come in.”

There was a soft, sniffled “yes” and Aramis opened the door. He saw d’Artagnan curled up on his bed, hiding his face and hugging himself. He was shaking a little which gave away the fact that he was crying. Aramis sighed and sat next to the boy on the bed, placing the jar of cookies on the floor.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly. “Did I say something that set you off?”

“Wasn’t you”, d’Artagnan mumbled. “I remembered my step-dad.”

“Your step-dad?” Aramis prompted. “Why did you remember him?”

“He used to get mad when I messed up”, d’Artagnan whispered. “Mum had a lot of work, so I had to spend a lot of time home with him and he would yell at me and hit me if I did something wrong. Once I broke a glass and he pushed me down and I fell on the shards because I hadn’t cleaned them up quick enough.”

“That’s horrible”, Aramis breathed. “That horrible bastard should burn in hell for that! You do know that it’s abuse, d’Artagnan? He was a horrible person and he hurt you and it was never your fault, you know that? You shouldn’t have had to go through that!”

D’Artagnan shook his head and tried to hide his face even further in his arms. Aramis sighed again and pulled the boy into a hug. He rubbed d’Artagnan’s back as d’Artagnan sniffled on his shoulder. Aramis rocked him back and forth, much like he would rock one of the children in the kindergarten he worked in.

“We’ll just buy a new glass to replace the broken one”, Aramis said. “It’s gonna be fine, d’Artagnan. We’re not angry at you.”

“But it was such an old glass”, d’Artagnan managed to say between his sniffles. “Are you sure you can find a similar one?”

“Who said it had to look similar as the old one?” Aramis asked, laughing a bit. “I like it more when we have a little bit mismatched glasses in the cabinet. Reminds me of our little mismatched family, you see.”

“It doesn’t have to be similar?” d’Artagnan asked, pulling away from the hug to look at Aramis. His eyes were red and puffy, and his nose was running a little. His face was still wet with tears and he tried to wipe it with his sleeve.

“Oh, it doesn’t”, Aramis said. “The glasses can be whatever we want them to be like. And honestly, we could even drink our breakfast juice from a wine glass if we wanted to or if we run out of regular glasses to use.”

“Can we?” d’Artagnan whispered. “I was never allowed to do that.”

“Yes, we can”, Aramis said, smiling widely. “You want to try that tomorrow morning?”

“Sure!” d’Artagnan said and laughed a little. Aramis smiled even wider, knowing that he had managed to lift the boy’s mood. He squeezed d’Artagnan’s shoulder and opened the jar of chocolate cookies, offering some to d’Artagnan. D’Artagnan took a few and began eating them as Aramis smiled at him.

“How’s your hand?” Aramis asked. “Do you need a band-aid?”

“It’s fine”, d’Artagnan said. “The cut isn’t deep. It just…freaked me out.”

“I can believe that”, Aramis said and turned to look at the half-opened door. “There’s no need to hide in the shadows, Athos.”

Athos peeked inside from the door and looked at d’Artagnan worriedly. He didn’t step in until d’Artagnan had nodded his permission for that – Athos had insisted that if anyone didn’t want someone to enter their room in his house, the room wouldn’t be entered. He wanted everyone to feel safe in their rooms and have alone time if they needed some.

“How much did you hear?” d’Artagnan asked quietly. He was avoiding Athos’ eyes, staring at his own hands instead.

“Pretty much all of it”, Athos admitted. “You do realise that what your step-father did was a crime and you can sue him if there’s any proof of what he did?”

“I don’t wanna sue him”, d’Artagnan muttered. “I just want to be away from him.”

“Then you are most welcome to stay here as we will keep you away from that bag of dirt”, Athos said solemnly, making Aramis giggle a little behind his hands. “And if he ever tries to get anywhere near you, I shall appoint my lawyer’s charm to take him as far away from you as possible.”

“Oh, you bet Athos will”, Aramis said and stood up. “I think I’m going to go change my shirt. The initiation rites have made it quite snotty.”

“Initiation rites?” d’Artagnan asked after Aramis had left the room. “What does he mean with those?”

“It’s…all of us have made Aramis’ shirt snotty at one point”, Athos said, sounding amused. “He seems to be our official shoulder to cry on. He jokingly calls the first time someone cries on his shoulder an initiation rite. I think his first girlfriend started that.”

“Whose shoulder does he cry on if he needs a cry?” d’Artagnan asked, sounding a little bit alarmed. “He does have someone he trusts enough to do that, does he?”

“Mostly it’s Porthos”, Athos told. “It has been me only a couple of times. Constance only once and that time it was because they were alone at home and he was having a terrible day. A terrible week, really.”

“I see”, d’Artagnan mumbled. “It’s good he has someone as well.”

“Yes”, Athos said, smiling fondly. “And I hope you know you can come to us whenever you need to.”

“Yes”, d’Artagnan whispered. “I think I do now.”

“Good”, Athos said and pulled d’Artagnan into another hug. At first d’Artagnan stiffened but he soon relaxed when Athos began stroking his hair. He smiled and closed his eyes, feeling happy that he had such a good family he could trust.

“How would you like ordering in?” Athos asked suddenly. “We could order some pizzas and eat in the living room.”

“Sounds great”, d’Artagnan said. “I haven’t had pizza in ages…”

“Well, then we have to go ask the others if they want pizzas as well”, Athos said and stood up. “You coming?”

“Sure”, d’Artagnan said with a smile. He jumped down from the bed and followed Athos downstairs to inform the other residents of the house of their dinner plans.


	2. Things That Give Athos a Headache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things that give Athos headaches. Comfort ensues.

**Aramis & Porthos’ feelings and how they handle it**

It was ridiculous, Athos thought, how two grown men couldn’t handle their feelings sometimes. They kept beating around the bush, thinking that the other wouldn’t reciprocate their feelings and quite honestly, it drove Athos mad. How could they not see that they both liked each other so much? Sometimes it was just too much for Athos; he hadn’t signed up to babysit two men who couldn’t be honest about their feelings. He was honestly amazed at how thick-headed the two could be as they surpassed even his inability to talk about feelings and love.

It was truly marvellous. He couldn’t even begin to explain how much the two caused him to suffer from headaches.

“What do I do, Athos?” Aramis sighed one evening when they were having some tea alone in the kitchen. “I like him so much and there’s no way he’ll ever like me back; he probably likes some nice person from his university. How do I deal with my feelings?”

“It’s alarming that you can’t seem to deal with your feelings”, Athos mumbled. “You always give so good advice so why can’t you deal with this suddenly?”

Aramis looked slightly lost after Athos’ question. He was frowning and looking at his cup of tea to escape Athos’ gaze. It was as if Aramis had no idea what to do, which, in a way, scared Athos. Aramis was a man who usually knew what to do and how to do it. Seeing him unable to deal with love – which had been a little bit of an issue with Aramis as he thought he fell in love too easily and tried to repress his feelings more often than not – was indeed rather alarming.

“I…it’s easier to give advice than to deal with my own feelings”, Aramis muttered. “Looking at things from an outsider’s perspective makes everything easier. I don’t know what to do because I feel like I’m not good enough for him.”

“Who’s ‘he’?” asked Porthos from behind Aramis. Aramis’ eyebrows rose comically and his eyes widened as he tried to stifle a gasp. “You’d be good enough for everyone, Aramis. Whoever it is, you should tell him how you feel about him.”

“I think Porthos is right”, Athos said. Aramis looked at him a bit annoyedly and tried to frown but couldn’t quite manage the look as he also looked quite shaken. “You should tell the person you like that you like him. Maybe he does already like you back.”

“He doesn’t”, Aramis muttered as he stood up and gathered his teacup to the sink. “He has a whole world full of better candidates so why would he like me? Now excuse me, I think I’ll go out for a walk. I need some time to think.”

Aramis left the kitchen, looking stubbornly away from Athos and Porthos. For a moment, the two stared at Aramis’ back in silence, until Porthos turned to look at Athos, his eyes blazing with anger.

“Who is it?” Porthos asked and stood up. “Who broke his heart? I’m going to beat him up.”

“Porthos no”, Athos said sternly as he rubbed his temples. “Sit down, Porthos; this is something Aramis has to deal with on his own. I can’t get mixed up in this. It’s not my secret to tell.”

“So Aramis has to suffer alone?” Porthos asked, gripping the back of the chair he’d been sitting in. “You’d leave him to suffer alone like that?”

“He would not be suffering if he just told the person he likes that he indeed likes that person”, Athos said. “He’s overreacted and thinks he’s not good enough for the man because the man thinks Aramis likes someone else which is why the man tries to avoid his feelings for Aramis. I think the man hopes he wouldn’t hurt Aramis by unnecessarily admitting his feelings for Aramis.”

Porthos stared at Athos for a moment and then sighed. He ran his hand through his hair and sat down on the chair, looking a little bit confused. He shook his head, trying to make some sense of the situation.

“That sounds so confusing”, he muttered. “Must feel like hell for Aramis. There’s no way I could even think of competing with something like that.”

“By this point, I think you could”, Athos said and sipped his tea. “It could at least give Aramis the confidence that someone sees him as likeable.”

“Does Aramis think he’s not likeable?” asked Constance from the hallway between the kitchen and living room. “Why would he think that? He’s our Aramis who is the most likeable person I’ve ever known. A little foolish, yes, but he’s a likeable fool.”

Constance walked into the kitchen and sat down on the chair next to Porthos. Athos offered her some tea and she accepted it, mixing some honey in it. She looked at Athos and Porthos expectantly, clearly wanting an explanation to the situation the men had gotten themselves into.

“I like Aramis”, Porthos mumbled. Constance nodded solemnly, already having guessed it. “He likes someone else, though. And that someone else likes him but apparently thinks Aramis could not like them because apparently all men are idiots. Except d’Artagnan.”

“Now that’s confusing indeed”, Constance said. “Maybe someone should just open their mouth. I think you should open up to Aramis, Porthos. Maybe he’ll gain enough confidence to confess to whoever he likes if you open up to him first.”

“I just don’t wanna hurt him”, Porthos mumbled. “I don’t wanna make him feel like he should feel something towards me because I like him.”

Constance smiled sympathetically as Athos poured some tea for Porthos. She fetched the jar of chocolate cookies from the cabinet and for some time the three only sat in silence, eating the cookies and drinking their tea. They could hear some faint music from d’Artagnan’s room and Constance smiled at it.

“He’s celebrating not having any math homework”, she said. “For once he could do his homework in only half an hour.”

“That’s nice”, Porthos mumbled. “Math really seems to be stressing him out. I wish I knew how to help the lad with it.”

“We’ll just try out best for now”, Constance said.

After a while, the three heard the front door opening, revealing Aramis who was slightly soaked from the rain outside. He ran a hand through his hair and groaned when he felt the water there. He took off his coat and put it on the black coat hanger he’d reserved for himself. He walked into the kitchen and leaned on one of the cupboards. The other three stared at him expectantly before he started to speak.

“I know this is stupid”, he said, looking at Porthos, “and probably disastrous for our friendship as well but you two are right; I have to be honest about my feelings.” Aramis bit his lower lip, looking uncomfortable. “I like you, Porthos and I don’t suppose my feelings will go away anytime soon. If this makes you uncomfortable, I can move away or make it so that you won’t have to interact with me; I can bear it. I just…I’d like it if we still could be friends after this, you know. I really don’t want to ruin our friendship just because I’m being an idiot and falling in love with you when you like someone…else?”

At some point during Aramis’ monologue, Porthos had stood up and walked to Aramis. He had placed his finger on Aramis’ lips and had gently begun shushing him. When Aramis quietened and looked at Porthos, Porthos smiled and bent down a little to kiss Aramis on the lips, making Aramis’ face go all red.

“It was you I liked the whole time, you dumb and gorgeous man”, Porthos sad when he pulled away.

“Oh”, Aramis breathed and then laughed. He was smiling widely and he reached out to kiss Porthos again. “I thought you liked someone else; that’s why I didn’t want to say anything about my feelings!”

“It was you”, Porthos mumbled against Aramis’ lips. “It was you the whole time.”

Aramis laughed again and started pressing little kisses all over Porthos’ face. He tried to back down against the wall but instead tripped over a dustpan and fell down on the floor, dragging Porthos down with himself. The two both laughed at that and kissed again.

“Thank god we got that settled”, Porthos said and kissed the tip of Aramis’ nose. “I was feeling rather miserable, thinking you liked someone else.”

“So was I”, Aramis mumbled and hugged Porthos’ torso. “So was I.”

Constance giggled and snapped a few photos of the two with her phone. Athos smiled as well, knowing that his headaches would lessen at least a little because of the two finally accepting their feelings.

It felt very relieving.

* * *

**D’Artagnan’s learning disability no one bothered to diagnose when he was younger**

Athos knew d’Artagnan was a very clever young man. He was interested in history and social studies as well as biology and geography and was very good at those subjects at school. He wanted to make a difference in the world and wanted to become a police officer like his father before him. He was decent at art subjects too and liked drawing, dogs and cats especially.

But math, math was something that d’Artagnan just couldn’t work with. He tried, he really tried, but usually when he had math homework, he ended up sulking or outright crying because he. Just. Couldn’t. Do it. Every evening he had math homework, he and Athos would sit around the kitchen table for hours, trying to work out the equations and while they managed to tackle them together, it felt to Athos like he really didn’t know how to help the lad. Even Porthos and Aramis tried to help, usually not being able to do much.

“I don’t get it, Athos”, d’Artagnan mumbled one Wednesday evening when the two were bent over d’Artagnan’s geometry homework. “These shapes and numbers, I just don’t get it. They make no sense in my head. You always try to help me, but I just can’t figure them out no matter what we try. I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot”, Athos said. “Math is just hard for you. It doesn’t make you an idiot.”

“But literally everyone else can do this”, d’Artagnan protested, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. “And here I can’t even get a simple math problem with a cube, Athos! I just don’t get the problem; I always try to count it all wrong.”

Athos sighed and placed his hand on d’Artagnan’s shoulder, hoping he would be able to comfort the boy even a little. When he saw d’Artagnan checking the digital clock on the screen of his smartphone instead of the analogous one on the wall, something in Athos’ brain clicked.

“You have dyscalculia, d’Artagnan”, Athos breathed. “That’s why math is so hard for you.”

“What, is that some new fancy way of saying that I’m an idiot?”, d’Artagnan sniffled miserably.

“No, it’s not, d’Artagnan”, Athos said. “It’s a learning disability. It means your brain really can’t comprehend certain concepts like numbers, shapes and analogous clocks, for example. Names can be difficult for a person with dyscalculia as well.”

“So wait, are you telling me that’s the reason why I used to mess your name with Aramis’ when I first moved in?” d’Artagnan asked. “Are you trying to tell me I’m not an idiot despite what everyone else has been telling me for years?”

“You. Are. Not. Stupid. D’Artagnan!” Athos said, grabbing the boy’s arms and stressing every word in his sentence with a gentle shake. “Learning disabilities don’t make people stupid; my little brother has dyslexia and he’s one of the most clever people I know. If your dyscalculia is diagnosed, your teachers can make things easier for you and it’s even treatable to some degree. What I’m baffled about is that no one even bothered to think that you might have a learning disability when you were younger.”

D’Artagnan stared at Athos’ face with both confusion and self-doubt in his expression. He shook his head but instead of letting go of d’Artagnan, Athos hugged the boy, trying to convey how sorry he was that d’Artagnan had had to grow up thinking he was stupid only because he couldn’t do math.

“So…how is dyscalculia diagnosed?” d’Artagnan asked.

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll find out”, Athos said. “I think a visit to the school nurse and possibly a psychologist will be enough.”

“So, I’m really not an idiot after all?” d’Artagnan asked quietly.

“No, you aren’t”, Athos said and squeezed d’Artagnan’s shoulders a little tighter.

* * *

**Forgetting to eat**

It had been…how many hours had it been since Athos ate? He was sitting at the kitchen table, leaning his head on it as the headache pounded his skull from the inside. As he tried to remember when he’d last eaten, he found his memories fuzzy. He remembered he hadn’t had time to eat lunch due to his lectures at the university. He might not have eaten breakfast either, but he wasn’t too sure. He definitely had skipped dinner on the previous evening, though, as he’d had no appetite.

Which meant he hadn’t eaten anything in over 24 hours. Oh joy.

Athos groaned as a new wave of pain went through his skull. He wondered idly if he could smash his skull against the table and be done with the ache. But then he remembered that would mean movement and he groaned again since he really didn’t want to move.

“Athos?” a high-pitched voice asked. Constance’s voice, Athos realised. “Are you alright? What’s going on?”

“Head hur’ssss”, Athos slurred. “Didn’ eat.”

“Oh god, Athos”, Constance breathed. “Porthos! I need you to get a painkiller for Athos. I’ll get you something to eat, Athos dear. You’ll be fine soon enough and then you can rest a little.”

Athos groaned again as he heard Constance rummaging through the cabinets, looking for something to eat. He felt a little guilty for making Constance worry for him like that. He looked up to Constance when he heard something rustle next to his face.

“Eat that bar of chocolate first”, Constance said. “It’ll give you some energy to eat more.”

With a considerable amount of force, Athos managed to push himself upright and fumble open the wrapping on the chocolate bar. He began munching on it, staring at Constance who was warming some salmon soup for herself and Athos. He felt so tired, but the chocolate seemed to help a little.

“Sorry”, Athos mumbled. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, scare me you did”, Constance said. “You know you shouldn’t miss your meals like that. You’re already almost underweight as you are.”

“I know”, Athos sighed as he finished the chocolate. “I just didn’t have time for food.”

“Then let me make you some snacks or buy one of those sandwiches from the convenience store near the university”, Constance said as she took out the warmed plate of salmon soup from the microwave oven and placed it in front of Athos. One look at Athos was enough to make him eat his soup in silence. Constance soon had her own plate ready and sat across Athos, eating the soup in silence.

“What would I do without you, Constance?” Athos asked softly as the warmth of the soup filled his stomach. It felt so good to have some food inside him, having something filling him.

“Frankly, you’d die of malnutrition”, Constance said and smiled as Porthos entered the kitchen with a package of painkillers.

“How are you feeling?” Porthos asked. “Did you forget to eat again?”

“I’m fine, Porthos”, Athos said and swallowed one of the painkillers. “I did; I had no time for lunch today and I must have forgotten breakfast too.”

“What would you do without us”, Porthos said and shook his head. “Take it easy for tonight. And have a breakfast tomorrow, I beg you. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Athos smiled and nodded as he continued eating.

Later in the evening, when Aramis got home, he saw a heart-warming sight in the living room. Constance and Porthos were watching television on a quiet volume while Athos slept on the soft sofa. Porthos motioned for Aramis to stay quiet as he tiptoed towards Porthos to kiss him.

Athos would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always much appreciated!


	3. Sensory Overload

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter has happened! Some fluff is happening as well as some anxiety.
> 
> Proofreading has been ditched (for the sake of cooking this time) as always

Porthos was the kindest person Aramis had ever known. He was extremely gentle with everyone and every time someone got hurt, Porthos was the first to run to help. He knew how to soothe little children and help the elderly and how to kiss so perfectly. He had never in his life hurt anyone or snapped at someone in purpose. And yet he was afraid he would.

When Porthos had been younger, he’d had some anger management issues from the bullying he’d faced at school. His issues had led to him breaking things and shouting at his classmates and teachers who had been bullying him. Even as a child he’d been tall and muscular and some of his classmates had gotten him in trouble for having those weak moments.

He had days when he felt like he might snap and hurt someone. Usually when he felt like that, he would lock himself inside his room and not let anyone else in. He wouldn’t take any chances that he might hurt someone. Even when Aramis tried to explain to him that he could never hurt Aramis, he just couldn’t believe it. Everyone had always called him aggressive and scary so how could he not be so?

One evening when Porthos and Aramis were watching TV with Athos and Constance, Aramis slowly started falling asleep on Porthos. It had been a long and exhausting day, especially for Porthos. He had been having exams at the university and it had given him a great deal of stress.

“Isn’t that adorable”, Constance whispered and looked at Aramis. He was half-hugging Porthos even as he slept and Porthos was running his hand up and down Aramis’ back.

“Oh, it is”, Athos said and smiled. “It’s nice to see them so happy.”

On the sofa, Porthos kissed Aramis’ temple and Aramis, if possible, sunk even further to Porthos’ shoulder. Porthos was smiling and holding Aramis’ hand. He looked so peaceful and happy, despite the long and stressful day.

All of sudden, Constance realised that Porthos was frowning. His expression looked very uncomfortable and he kept biting his lip. Suddenly he shook his head and gently pushed Aramis to lie on the sofa. Porthos got up and placed a quilt over Aramis before walking to his own room, locking the door. Aramis soon stirred and looked confused.

“Where’s Porthos?” he asked softly. “Where’d he go?”

“I think he’s not feeling well”, Constance whispered. “He looked very uncomfortable.”

“Not again”, Aramis mumbled and pushed himself up. He walked to Porthos’ door and knocked on it, waiting for Porthos to either open the door or answer it. When it became apparent that Porthos wouldn’t do either, Aramis knocked again, this time with more force.

“Go away!” Porthos said from inside his room. Aramis could hear the ragged breathing and Porthos’ shaking voice. “I don’t know what’s going on and if I open this door I fear I might lash out at you. I don’t want to do that!”

“I know you won’t”, Aramis said, his voice sincere and sure. “I might know what’s going on and how to help. Can you open this door and let me try to help you?”

There was some shuffling in Porthos’ room and soon the door opened. Porthos was just standing there, trembling a little and looking desperate. Aramis gave him one sad look and grabbed his hand.

“I don’t want to lash out”, Porthos whispered. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I know if I lash out, I _will_ hurt someone whether I want it or not.”

“You won’t”, Aramis said sincerely, “I know you won’t hurt any of us. I think that you’re having a sensory overload episode. Do you feel like everything you’re feeling is too much right now?”

“I…yes”, Porthos whispered. “I do.”

“Come on”, Aramis said quietly. “I know how to help.”

Aramis led Porthos to his own room and walked to the window to close the curtains. Then he rummaged through one of his cabinets and managed to find a pair of headphones. He handed them to Porthos, smiling at him encouragingly.

“Those should block the outside noise”, Aramis said. “I’ll close the door and shut the lights, so you will have less sensory input. That should help. It helped me at least.”

“You used to feel like this too?” Porthos asked softly. “You wanted to lash out at people too?”

“Scream and shout”, Aramis said, smiling a half-smile at Porthos. “Put these on and lie down on the bed. You should close your eyes too; the less sensory input you have, the faster you should be feeling better. I’ll stay here with you.”

“Thank you”, Porthos whispered and pressed a quick kiss on Aramis’ lips. He lay down on the bed before putting on the headphones and closing his eyes. Aramis quietly closed the door and shut the lights before sitting down on his office chair.

Then he waited.

If he was really right and Porthos was suffering from sensory overload, Porthos’ life would get easier as he would have no more reason to fear lashing out. He would have a solution for the stressful moments and if he was lucky, the stressful moments would happen less and less and even possibly stop entirely. Aramis really hoped the episodes would stop as Porthos really seemed to fear them and he didn’t want Porthos to feel afraid or uncomfortable.

As Aramis thought of the situation, he slowly spun around on the office chair. He tried to keep his eyes on Porthos to make sure he was alright while Aramis thought and spun. It went on for another hour and Aramis was fairly certain that Porthos had fallen asleep when he realised that he was spinning too fast on the office chair. Before he could stop the spinning, he realised that he was falling down and soon he connected with the floor, accompanied by a loud crash.

There was some shuffling from the bed and soon strong hands helped Aramis up. He met Porthos’ worried eyes and smiled uncertainly.

“Are you alright?” Porthos asked. Aramis noticed that the headphones were resting around Porthos’ neck, implying that Porthos had been in so much hurry to help that he hadn’t even tried to take them off properly.

“I’m fine”, Aramis whispered. “I just decided to get to know the floor a little better. How are you feeling?”

“I’m…better, I think?” Porthos said. “I don’t feel like lashing out anymore. How did you know that this would help?”

“I guessed”, Aramis said and smiled. “I wanted to help and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to try it out at least. And seeing as you acted a lot like I used to when I kept having sensory overload episodes, I was fairly sure I was right.”

Porthos smiled and hugged Aramis. Aramis returned the hug, humming happily. His heart soared now that he knew how he could help Porthos. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and both Aramis and Porthos turned to look at it.

“Is everything alright?” Constance’s voice asked through the door. “I heard a crash.”

“Yes, we’re fine”, Aramis said. “I just decided to get to know the floor a little better, that’s it.”

“Well, if you’ve gotten to know it well enough, Athos is making some cocoa and was wondering if you two would like some”, Constance said with a soft laugh in her voice. “There’s marshmallows too.”

“Oh, I would love some”, Aramis said. “What about you, Porthos?”

“I’d love some”, Porthos mumbled.

Aramis beamed as he stood up and pulled Porthos up as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is much appreciated!!


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